When a novel product comes out, inspired by a brand new technology, there are some crazy people who spend a large amount of money and time to get their hands on it. Remember the first buyers of iphone? Or Buyers of Tesla cars? Or Buyers of all kinds of gaming gadgets?
These people know that in a few years or even months, price will come down and there will be easy availability of their favorite gadgets. Still they wanted to be the absolute first to get their hands on their favorite product.
Well, we Bengalis had our chance to show our obsession with a new technology. Long before smartphones and Broadband and gaming. This technology dealt with fish – illish to be exact! Please read on
Illish-maacch and Chicago Cops – a fishy tale
You folks may not be aware of it but 1992 was a life-changing, monumental year for all of us Bengalis living abroad. Before 1992, we were merely another group of NRI’s – trudging along, making money, raising kids, disagreeing with spouses and such.
Then came 1992, and a golden opportunity opened up to transform ourselves from a group of mere generic NRI’s to a cackle of the happiest people in the entire universe!
Now that you are totally clueless about this, let’s give you a little background.
The Japanese, who eat tons of sushi, were always obsessed about freshness of their fish. They are the ones that developed the technique of flash-freezing fish right on the fishing boats. Frozen instantly, the fish retain their original taste.
Our friends from Bangladesh adopted this technology and decided to start selling flash-frozen Illish and other delicious fish. The premiere was in 1992, in a handful of selected big cities in America. Like Chicago, New York, Los Angeles.
We lived in a little town about five hundred miles south of Chicago.
As the Bangladeshis embarked on this monumental fishy endeavor, the local press, the national press, and world press totally ignored them.
Fortunately for us, a little blurb appeared in India abroad, the overseas Weekly for expats that some people read regularly. The blurb was read by a few, and it resulted in an avalanche of excitement throughout North America. Saliva drooled from our lips as we picked up the phone.
Liberally translated, this was one Bengali exclaiming to another “ Really, fresh Iilish from Padma (Ganga becomes Padma in Bangladesh), are you serious?”
We had a great plan. We, the pioneers, will go to Chicago, procure this precious illish then dazzle our brothers in our hometown with illish from Bangladesh!. Four of us left at 6 am on a Saturday morning, intending to drive continuously by taking turns. We will arrive at Chicago at around 6 pm or so, pack our cooler with a ton of frozen illish and drive back continuously, getting back sometime Sunday morning. The cooler was packed with high-tech “Blue ice” –it would keep the fish frozen for many hours.
Like any sound plan, things went wrong. The van broke down in the middle of nowhere. By the time it was fixed, it was around 8 pm Saturday evening. We figured we would continue driving to Chicago, getting there around 8:30 or so in the morning.
We got to the Devon Street area in Chicago around 5 am in the morning, much earlier, partly because of our miscalculation and partly because there was very little traffic on Chicago highways during early morning. It was still pitch dark.
The store opened at 9 am.
There was no point going to a motel for four hours. Some restaurants appeared to be open for breakfast. But we could not possibly spend four hours in a restaurant.
Binoy suggested that we go to three separate restaurants, and spend about an hour at each of them, and then wait in front of the store until it opens. His suggestion was summarily dismissed as childish and needlessly expensive.
At Chinmoy’s suggestion, we found a half-empty parking lot right next to a gas station close to Devon street, parked our van and promptly fell asleep.
This was a very bad idea..
I woke up, startled at a clicking noise. As I opened my eyes, there was this barrel of a gun pointed at my face. Just like in the movies! Except this was a real gun and I was not watching TV!
A harsh voice announced crisply
“Put your hands up and slowly walk out of the vehicle , now, please”.
There were six cops with their guns pointed at our heads, and a snarling German Shepherd dog. I have never been so scared in my life. They immediately separated us and started asking questions.
Of course, we perfectly fit the profile of drug dealers, making deliveries in the early morning hours.
I was the lucky one. I got to sit in the passenger seat of the police car with the dog. The bitch (excuse my profanity, she was one) was fortunately separated from us, behind heavy steel mesh in the back seat. The cop politely questioned me for about twenty minutes. Every five minutes, he will leave the vehicle to confer with his colleagues. At that point, the b**ch would start howling at the top her voice, her paws on the mesh, her saliva hitting my body. I could see her fangs and smell canine morning breath. Only the very durable steel mesh saved my life that day!.
Then the cop would return, politely tell the dog, “Shut up, Susan”, and Susan would immediately pretend to fall asleep. Questioning by the cop will resume again, followed by another round of vicious barking. The cycle repeated itself three or four times. Susan was the wrong name for her, of course. Cujo (or Saalee) fit her a lot better.
The cops absolutely refused to believe that we came from five hundred miles away to buy fish (and I kind of don’t blame them).
They questioned us about our past and present, , searched our van from top to bottom, patted us down, searched our personal items, checked our ID’s, crosschecked our ID”S with their office computers, and finally, disdainfully, let us go.
One of them contemptuously told us at the end “Sir, this was not a very smart thing to do. You could have been robbed by local criminals, or assaulted or even killed by real drug dealers . Next time you come to buy fish here, please arrive during normal business hours.”
No kidding!
There were still two hours left before the store opened. We went to a breakfast place, and crashed with our shaken bodies and souls. Fortunately none of us needed to change our underpants, although I came pretty close owing to my encounter with lovely Susan .
The drive back was routine. I did my three hours of driving first and then went to the back seat, fell asleep soundly, hugging the cooler full of fish.
No, we were not selfish. Everyone was invited to the ensuing illish-fest, where Jhal, jhol, mustard-illish, sour-illish, steamed illish and even fried illish roe flowed freely. (If are wondering what these are, check the recipes on the internet!) And we had a story to tell as well.
In a couple of years, almost all Indian stores started carrying Illish and other fish in their freezer. Today, no matter where you are in America, you can get this stuff pretty easy.
But we were the pioneers! We beat everyone else by two years!
I still wake up at night dreaming about Susan, though. Can’t get her out of my mind!
Both Parts I and II were written about ten years ago
The Kanjus Chacha and the Gypsy Girl (Part II)
Synopsis of Part 1: ( Ratan the Kanjus Chacha , a real penny-pincher, left his doctor wife in India, who somehow got pregnant when Ratan was not around! He did not divorce her, because Anjoli the Doc made a lot of money!)
Before I tell you how Ratan met this gypsy girl, let me explain about Ratan’s automotive exploits.
A brand new standard car in America would cost twelve to twenty thousand dollars, a luxury car possibly a lot more. A decent used car would cost at least half of that.
But Ratan found a real gold mine. In small towns on Satruday mornings, there are live car auctions. No, these are not lovingly restored antique cars, they are junk cars that are sold “as is”.
Rows after rows of abandoned automotive hulks helplessly await truly desperate buyers in need of transportation! The signs, almost comic, are posted on the windshields:
“BMW 1975 – no engine – $200!”
“Toyota 1990 – no seats, no tires, $600!
Cadillac 1985 – no headlights, no battery, $700!
The seller is not being honest, he merely determines the opening bids depending on what he observes. There are, of course, other possible pitfalls associated with these cars, like one with an engine may not actually start!
Ratan got his last car for $300 from here, fixed it up for anther $400 and it’s been running for the last eight months! He kept on going to these auctions though, because he knew he will need a replacement soon!
He bumped into this group at several of these auctions – James , an older man in his late forties, and his grown up children, Ciara and Brian, both in their twenties.
Ratan passionately explained to them how Americans waste thousands of dollars on new cars, and his general thesis about maximum wealth accumulation. To his surprise, they agreed totally. They liked saving money too.
They looked darker than the average Americans.
“Are you guys Hispanic?” Ratan asked
“No, our folks came from East Europe” Ciara said. “Many years ago.”
It was James that invited him to dinner. Their apartment was too small and the food really sucked. Gross chicken dumplings that tasted like wet flour, and boiled potatoes! These folks are really cheap, Ratan noticed, somewhat amused. The only redeeming feature was Ciara, an attractive young woman that continuously flirted with him.
Ratan decided to invite them for dinner. He can cook a mean Chhole and chicken wings –cheap but much tastier!. To hell with boiled potatoes! Ciara and her family loved his spicy food.
The men were mainly passive, James watched TV and smoked an endless number of cigarettes, while Brian, the younger one, was constantly playing video games on his hand-held console, snacking continuously on any edible items within his reach. Ciara was the only lively one.
While they were lounging after dinner in Ratan’s living room. Ciara veered off to the kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye, Ratan noticed a feminine hand waving to him.
“ I love your balcony!” Ciara said. “We don’t have one.”
Hanging out on the balcony with a young, attractive and flirtatious girl – Ratan is only human – that’s when things started warming up!
The feminine waves emanating from the kitchen continued on subsequent visits. Soon, Ciara was admiring Ratan’s comfy bed upstairs. As they were romping around, the men remained totally oblivious, James kept on smoking and Brian kept on furiously pushing his game stick.
The entire family appeared to be serious penny-pinchers. In fact all his dates with Ciara were at his home, with her dad and brother in the living room.
“Why do you always bring the whole contingent?” He asked her “We are never really alone together”
She laughed “Yes we are, in your bedroom upstairs, remember?”
“Hey, this saves a lot of money.” Ciara explained “ We turn off all the lights in our place in the evening while we are visiting you. James and Brian can watch cable TV here. We canceled our own cable at home. And Brian can eat snacks at your house instead of mine”, she winked!
Ratan was impressed. No, Ratan was hopelessly smitten.
Finally, a woman with the same goal as himself. Maximum wealth accumulation is happening now, along with romance! What else does a Kanjus guy want from life?
This is it, Ratan decided. To hell with the Doc! He will get an ex parte divorce soon.
After a lot of thought, he bought a moderately priced diamond ring (hey, this would stay in the family, anyways!) and proposed to Ciara. She gleefully accepted.
They started making plans. This was going to be a true partnership, Ciara said.
They jointly bought Ratan’s first new car. No more jalopies, Ratan decided, as he happily got rid of his junky drive! Each would drive the new car on alternate days.
They jointly rented a new apartment . Ratan moved to the empty apartment first.
On a beautiful Thursday evening, they all met at Ratan’s house .
“This is the plan” Ciara said “we have left our old apartment. James and Brian will stay at your house, and will pay you rent.
We have a lease drawn up for a year already that we will sign right now. I will move in with you to the new apartment after we buy some new furniture over the weekend.”
It was Ciara’s turn to drive the new car. They all came to Ratan’s new apartment and dropped him off there.
“I will get a ride from my friend tomorrow morning to go to work., Ciara” Ratan said
“And I will pick you up from work tomorrow evening. We will go furniture shopping, and I will move in with you over the weekend “ Ciara said, as she kissed him goodbye.
Ratan happily slept on the floor of the empty apartment Thursday night. He had finally found his soul mate! Everything is perfect, at last!
The next day turned out to be kind of bad for Ratan.
In fact, you could call it probably the worst day of his life.
Ciara’s phone went dead around Friday afternoon, and she never showed up. Taking a taxi, Ratan showed up at his own house. He was very surprised. Total strangers were living at his house.
When the dust settled, Ratan found that In a small window of eighteen hours, Ciara and her family had sold all of Ratan’s furniture, TV, stereo, computer and all, sold the new car, and James subleased Ratan’s house for a year ! The new tenants had already moved in, apparently they paid James six months’ rent in advance for Ratan’s house.
Ciara had vanished, she called him from Hawaii for one last time.
“We moved to Hawaii, sweetheart! By the way, we charged the tickets to your credit card. And James and I just got engaged. He has already given me a nice diamond ring! Thanks for all your help! “ She giggled.
“James is your lover?” an incredulous Ratan asked.
“And Brian is my boyfriend. I am a gypsy girl, baby”, a chirpy Ciara explained “Sometimes we keep several men around when we are young. When James gets older, I will get rid of him and settle down with Brian!”
The damage was pretty steep for Ratan. The diamond ring was gone, for sure. Not only he lost his new car and all his furniture, but he had to persuade the tenants at his own house to leave by paying them six months’ rent, and pay a year’s rent for his new apartment for the duration of the lease. The total ran into many thousands of dollars. The tickets to Hawaii were bought from his computer, at his house, using his credit card, by James, while Ratan was blissfully engaged in his last “wave” episode upstairs . The credit card company would not even hear about canceling the charges.
The gypsy girl really cleaned him out, putting a big dent in his heart and his wealth. Yes, Ratan went to an attorney. He was sympathetic , although it appeared that he was trying very hard not to burst out laughing.
“Apparently, sir, no laws were broken. Forget about criminal prosecution, it would be difficult for you to even get a civil judgment against Ciara.” The attorney explained
“ The gypsies are well-known for their conniving ways. Instead of stealing, a small number of them have adapted to being vicious con-artists in modern day America. They did research on you, and played you exactly the way you wanted to be played. I am sure the new tenants in your house were part of their network.“
“ Ciara and the gang would soon clean out another middle-aged soul in Hawaii before moving on to another location. The gypsies don’t’ stay in one place for too long! “ He informed a dazed Ratan.
We don’t rib Ratan for his Kanjusi any more. We kind of leave him alone.
He still gets exuberant mail from Anjoli about “their” son’s recent antics! She is planning to send their son to a posh private school in Kolkata followed by an expensive college in America. Ratan will need to pay for half of all that.
Oh dear! He never formally contested his paternity! It is too late now, I guess!
This is a continuation of my series about NRI chachas that I have met over the years. This one is somewhat embellished, more like a “composite”!
Maximum wealth accumulation, that was Ratan chacha’s motto.
In grad school in America, we were all exceedingly poor owing to our measly stipends. Most of us desi students lived in one big apartment complex. Most of us will cook dinner after coming home from school around five pm and try to make one satisfying meal with our non-existent cooking skills. Hey, in India, we were raised as bright budding engineers, scientists, mathematicians and such, our mothers and bhabis taking care of all our fastidious culinary demands. Here, we could not afford to eat out even at the cafeteria!
We started by staring at frozen mounds of raw chicken that we bought at the grocery store! What the hell do you do with this stuff?
Some of us were natural –born cooks though. Their apartments would soon smell of chicken curry and such around six-thirty in the evening. That’s when Ratan would arrive, make small talk, admire the food about to be eaten and finally, casually, grab a small portion for tasting!
(“Excellent Chicken! Very good! Where did you learn all this?”)
Ratan would visit about four or five different apartments in the evening and make an entire meal out of small tastes of chicken curry, keema curry, even sambar and idli and occasionally maaacher jhol.
Hey, we were not dumb, he was soon nicknamed the “scavenger” and ultimately banished from all apartments during dinnertime. We heard that he hit the middle-eastern circle later but was soon declared persona non grata.
After he made some moolah as an established academic in America, he asked his parents for a hook up marriage. The gods got him married to a lady doctor in India. Usually, in this case, the doc migrates to USA, goes for additional schooling to get her US medical license. The transition takes a few years. But your Ratan chacha was not going for this.
“We are making good money in two different countries. Why spoil that? You stay in Kolkata, I will stay here – I will see you every summer during my summer break”
Hmmm…., less conjugal bliss but a loadful of cash- happiness – Kanjus or what?
(“Loadful” is not a word, I just made that up )
He never allowed his wife to visit America.
“ You don’t even know anyone here, sweetheart. What’s there to see in America anyway! Just some tall buildings! I will go every summer for three months and visit you and our families and friends – kill many birds with one stone hahahaha!
Anjoli, the lady doc, had a great private practice, saving up a pretty stack for the couple. Three years into their marriage, she got pregnant. Ratan was joyously making plans to raise the child in India, saving even more money, when a bombshell hit him.
It was late March. The baby was due in October, Anjoli’s ob-gyn doctor said.
Ratan gasped. “Are you sure?” he asked the doctor.
Ratan left India in August the previous year.
Ooops! Let’s do some simple math here.
You know how babies grow, right?
A baby conceived in June, July, or August this year will not be due in October the following year!
Lots of screaming ensued over long distance phone calls. Ratan was not going to India any more. But divorcing Anjoli will mean separating from all the doctor’s money !
Give up half of a loadful of cash or live the life of a jilted mate – for ordinary men, the decision would be easy.
But our Kanjus chacha had to think about this . For about five years!! That’s when he met the gypsy girl!
.
Yes, there are gypsies in America! They migrated from Europe many years ago, many got assimilated, some not so much. Among the ones that remained separated from the mainstream, some ran circuses and carnivals, some were in the music business, but there was a small core that continued their somewhat unusual ways.
Ciara’s mom, a white girl, eloped to California with a dashing man she met at a carnival. It turned out to be a pretty bad deal. The handsome gypsy man turned out to be a professional hustler and a wife-beater. Ten years and four children later, she escaped back to her parents in her hometown . Ciara grew up floating between her working class grandparents and her struggling single mom. But she remembered her dad well, she was a true gypsy at heart. But Ratan didn’t know any of this.
(The gypsy girl would change Ratan’s life for ever. But you have read the second part to find out!)
This is a revised version of my earlier blog about Japan, but here I am planning to add a lot of pictures. Some pics have been added, I will add more later.
Impressions of Japan –Tokyo, June 2018
You don’t understand Japan and the Japanese until you actually visit Japan and observe the behavior of your Japanese friends (both in Japan and abroad) over a period of time. Now I have done both. This does not make me an expert on Japan. Yet the conclusions I will draw by myself are not in any book or film or video. These are unwritten and unpublished truths about the Japanese society. So here they come (without much evidence!) – I invoke my freedom of expression rights, so you absolutely have the right to vehemently disagree with me.
The Japanese have many rules and customs and etiquette – some formal, some informal, some strictly enforced, some expected of good citizens. They are crazy crazy polite. If you go to a store to buy a loaf of bread, somebody will bow to you at the door, and will say ‘connichewa” (hello). You will have to do the same. When you come near the shelf where they keep the bread, another employee will notice you, bow and say hello and possibly enquire about your shopping needs. You will need to bow and speak with him and smile. When you are going to the cash counter, another employee will thank you for your patronage and ask you some additional questions. You will need to bow and smile and talk to him or her.
Finally at the cash counter, more bowing, exchanging pleasantries and a round of “arigato” (thank you). At the exit door, another bow and more pleasantries exchanged. In India, some stores may have a lot of employees on their sales staff, but you can ignore them. In japan, you have to speak to everyone, and BOW until your waist hurts. Almost all of us foreigners can not possibly follow these customs and many others that are followed by the Japanese every day!. We are excused by the Japanese for failing their standards but at the same time, under all the politeness, they feel smug at our lack of sophistication. As a result, the Japanese think we foreigners are rude and impolite in general
The Japanese do not care much about diversity. They like their society as it is, almost entirely consisting of ethnic Japanese. There is now a sprinkling of working foreigners and students. Of late, the resident hafus (mixed race) have grown up. If they are successful, they are celebrated (like Naomi Osaka). If not , they are tolerated and suffer quiet but persistent discrimination throughout their lives.
The Japanese do not care about economic growth that much – in fact stagnation is OK with them. They already have a high standard of living and they want to stagnate around that forever.
No drugs, no crime, decent food , excellent transportation and entertainment options, and decent salary and job security even for the lowest level jobs – the Japanese have quite a high standard of living indeed. Apartments, like hotel rooms, are tiny but clean and efficient – and outside Tokyo, they are not that tiny!
The Western media cares more about Japanese stagnation than the Japanese citizens.
Nor are the Japanese worried about declining birthrates, or decline in the number of married people. The Western media write alarmist articles frequently about the decline in Japanese family life, and the depression and the high suicide rate. Any evening of the week, there are huge crowds on the streets, shopping, eating and having fun – not consistent with a depressed society.
Every night, buildings and streets are crowded like this.
Every night, buildings are lit up like this and filled with hordes of people. A depressed, suicidal society? Not for most people!!
A typical night in the middle of the week in Shinjuku, the central business district. These are just regular bars and restaurants on both sides, nothing special like live music, concerts or wild parties. This is just normal for Tokyo.
Mostly, the Japanese do not wish to travel to uncivilized countries in Asia (includes India, Malaysia etc.) or Africa or Latin America. USA and Western Europe are OK . I have kept in touch with many Japanese friends since our university days about forty years ago. Everyone has travelled to many western countries during these years, but not a single person has visited India. The thought of visiting India with its lack of discipline and order, along with the dirt and poverty terrorizes the Japanese people (at least discourages them). You will see busloads of Japanese tourists all over Europe and USA , not at all in India or other South Asian countries. The Japanese travelers to India will be heretics and outliers.
The Japanese love Japan. Even with foreign degrees, good jobs in USA or Europe, they will ultimately return to the land of the rising Sun unlike us Indians or Chinese or others.
In our Ph. D. program in University of Rochester, among our contemporaries in economics, there were five Japanese, four Indians, one Taiwanese, one Israeli, one Mexican, and about seven Americans. All of these students worked in USA all their lives after finishing their Ph.D’s . Except, the Mexican guy was from an aristocratic Mexican family, so he went back after a while and eventually became Mexico’s finance minister. The Israeli man went back to the most prestigious university in Israel, and all the Japanese guys went back to Japan, gladly giving up economic opportunities in USA. We Indians gladly gave up our country for economic opportunities in the USA.
Many US universities have a small number of Japanese born faculty – they are there because of their academic or personal interests . They also often go back to Japan after about ten or fifteen years in USA. Compare this to Indians in our generation – none of us went back to work in India, ever. The only Indians with PHD.’s in economics that went back were the ones who did not get a single job offer in USA. Ashim Dasgupta was no exception- his Ph.D. thesis from MIT was below par and he never got a job offer.
The Japanese like to claim that they work very hard, in fact they quote long working hours and high burnout rates etc., to prove this. While some people of course work very hard and /or burn out (in every country), a little more probing will reveal the following:
A lot of work is “pretend” make-up work. In order to submit a report to a high level employee of the same company in a different office, email or fax is supposedly insulting. Somebody has to go clear across town to deliver the report, chat with the employee and maybe have coffee. Five hours of “hard work” that could be accomplished in one minute!!
In a university, a lot of professors bring sleeping bags and sleep in their offices because they are doing so much research! You can draw your own conclusions (hint: they sleep at night in their offices!)
Every evening, in the central business and entertainment district ( Shinjuku, where I stayed for four nights) , there are literally hundreds of bars and restaurants and they are all packed from early evening. Who are these people? Tourists? Teenagers? Singles hunting for partners? Yes, some of them are but these still do not explain the huge crowds every single night. We are looking at an area about twenty times the size of Park Street in Calcutta, or Times Square in New York City, with bars and restaurants at almost every building! And there are similar areas in Central Tokyo and many other places. The crowd consists of people working! They are conducting important business meetings! Yes, drinking, eating , smoking, chatting and maybe talking business a little bit. All on company time. I won’t mind working hard like that! After all that hard work, they are too tired (drunk) to go home, so they crash at a cheap hotel, and go back to the office in disarray the next morning and proudly claim that they worked so hard the previous day.
Because the way they are brought up, the Japanese are socially awkward . In the famous cat café, I saw Japanese men quietly sitting next to cats, not interacting with them, after paying a hefty admission fee to go in and play with cats!! In the subway or train , restaurant, or even in a park, many people are working on their phones or laptops instead of talking. This accentuates the hard work syndrome!
All tourist spots, temples, shrines, parks, iconic buildings, are all packed with Japanese people every day in addition to foreign tourists. Tourists from outside Tokyo ? Well , they are supposed to be working hard too!! My guess is that the Japanese get a lot of days off from their arduous work schedule, they just don’t want to admit that they do!
Overall. I have felt that the Japanese think that they are superior to others in the world. The people from Asia and Africa are deemed to be uncivilized and without manners – more so than people from Europe!
Obviously, not everyone in Japan holds these opinions, there are many exceptions !
Now I write about the good stuff! Japan’s society is so outstanding in many ways that I would happily vacation there every year even if all the above stereotypes are true for every single Japanese person (and they are not, obviously!)
Transport
The transportation hubs in Tokyo are massive! They were overwhelming to me when I landed in Tokyo, but once you figure out everything, it is really impressive and well-organized. Shinjuku station has five floors , one for subway trains, one for long-distance trains, one for long-distance buses , one for local buses, and one level for taxis and private cars. You can plan your nation-wide travel itinerary from that one place! And the entire building is full of restaurants and takeaway places and it is next to huge shopping areas. I had a hotel near the station. I took a train from Narita international airport to here on arrival in Japan, then used the same Shinjuku station for subway rides inside Tokyo and left by long-distance bus from the same Shinjuku station for Mt. Fuji. Subway trains are numerous and color-coded and well-organized, yet I managed to get lost on the first day and had to rebuy my tickets, so thereafter I bought an all-day ticket every day in Tokyo, and Kyoto and Osaka.
The cleanliness of the streets is striking! They do not allow smoking on the streets because the ash from your cigarette will make the streets dirty ( not the butts which you can dispose of separately) . Surprisingly, you can smoke in many bars and restaurants because the Japanese respect your private space, although this is changing fast!! But heck, I have no idea how they keep the streets and the sidewalk spotlessly clean even in high traffic areas.
Manners
The discipline and the politeness of the people working everywhere is amazing! They actually learn politeness and cleanliness at schools. In primary schools, students have one class period allocated to cleaning their own class rooms and toilets (yes, try this in India!!)
People everywhere think they are well –paid. Thus you do not tip the wait staff in restaurants or the taxi-drivers in Japan because they are insulted if you do so (no kidding)!
The politeness of people on the street and in social situations is totally off the charts! I think in Tokyo, you can take off all your clothes and step into a busy street while playing with your private parts and you will be summarily ignored until the Police politely asks you if you need help (alright, I made this one up, this is not true!!)
You will see bicyclists riding for about 20 meters on the sidewalk, stopping because they would not use the bell to distract the pedestrians in front and dismounting and walking behind them until they can ride again maybe this time for 15 meters!!
Everywhere in a humongous city like Tokyo, you see young boys and girls (8 to 13) taking the subway to school alone , hanging out in groups or playing in parks unsupervised. Older kids, 14 to 18, work in convenience stores or takeaway places, sometimes unsupervised by adults. Nobody kidnaps them, nobody assaults them , nobody robs them (try this in USA!!)
And, no, in case you have turned on your filthy imagination, teenage girls are normally dressed, or sometimes weirdly dressed with multi-colored hair and funky accessories, but not wearing micro-mini skirts and trying to seduce older men for money. If this does go on in Japan, it is an online, secret thing using only Japanese language, and I did not see any evidence of that at all in public places – I was not looking for it anyways!! The Western media often writes about teenage girls behaving inappropriately in Japan – it is simply not true!
The punctuality of Japanese transportation that you may have heard of is all true. A train leaving at 2:13 pm will not leave at 2:14 pm. Even my long –distance bus to Fujiyama from Tokyo went through highways and little towns and arrived on the dot after four hours.
Food
Japanese food turned out to be surprisingly tasty! They use a small amount of spices, but skillfully enough so that the food becomes flavorful. This applies to all the beef and fish soups and entrees I have eaten in Japan. And all the pickled and cooked veggies. Of course I liked the sushi and the tempura too.
Beautifully presented sushi platter in Asakusa, Tokyo
Breakfast Sushi, anyone? Fresh, raw fish for breakfast tastes surprisingly good!
What is even more remarkable is that the quality of food is the same everywhere. You can buy a chicken sandwich, or a lunch combo with soup and a piece of fish and pickled veggies from a roadside convenience store or from an expensive restaurant, they will taste the same. The restaurants only offer much more variety and ambiance at much higher prices. As soon as I discovered this I started having excellent meals in my hotel room that I bought from roadside convenience stores. A meal of four small sandwiches (egg salad, tuna, roast beef, and Japan’s unique strawberry and cream sandwich) and a small salad and a small pastry will be about 8 dollars and everything will be super fresh and taste great! A meal like that in a proper restaurant will cost at least twice as much.
Talk about ambiance in fancy restaurants, the menu shown above includes Wagyu beef, the most expensive beef in the world, at just 11000 yen per serving (that’s about $110, or 8400 rupees !!) I did not eat this, could not force myself to spend so much on one meal. Instead I ate Bulgogi
Korean Bulgogi (beef) – cost about 10 dollars – very tasty!
The Japanese are very innovative about service in restaurants – some of these are now being implemented in other countries.
You may have seen or visited the rotating wheel restaurants where freshly prepared food items are loaded on to the conveyor belt. You grab whatever you like. This lets you taste many small items.
Another way is online menus at the tables, your order reaches the kitchen online and delivered to you by the waiter. I have seen this in USA during recent years. Still another way is to look at the menu items at the entrance, order and pay at the machine at the gate and get a receipt. When you are inside, your receipt gets you the food you ordered already.
Then there are specialized places in entertainment districts. Apart from the ubiquitous Karaoke bar, there are Robot cafes, Anime cafes, Maid cafes, and so on. And finally cat and dog cafes where you can hang out with your favorite animals and have a latte at the same time. I tried the cat café, and loved it,
You can not finish a discussion of Japanese food without discussing their vending machines. Yes, they have scores of beverages and snacks instead of only a handful in USA or Europe. You can also get prepackaged food and freshly cooked food in some machines that are supposedly very good. And machines are everywhere including at the street corners.
I did not try the food, but I tried all kinds of weird drinks and liked some of them( my favorite : Pokari Sweat Water – yes sweat water!!)
No drugs, no crime, decent food , excellent transportation and entertainment options, and decent salary and job security even for low level jobs – the Japanese have quite a high standard of living indeed . Apartments, like hotel rooms, are tiny but clean and efficient – and outside Tokyo, they are not that tiny! Healthcare coverage is a lot less comprehensive for working adults in recent years. On the other hand, for many seniors, health care coverage has been so excellent that many people of 100+ years continue to roam the streets, which results in some obvious social problems of depression, abandonment and loneliness.
Seniors
Talking about senior citizens, I thought I was in decent physical shape for a man in my mid-sixties. The Japanese senior brigade put me into deep shame. I have never seen so many old folks with flat stomachs and ramrod straight posture, hiking, biking, exercising and playing sports (and apparently, having sex too) in their sixties, seventies and eighties! Some of them work in their mid-eighties, not for money, but to spend time!!
I enclose two pics of my classmates in Rochester that I met after 38 years. the man with his daughter is Dr. Fukiharu, the guy with white hair is Dr. Kodaira, and the other guy is Dr. Takahashi
OUTSTANDING Parks right in the middle of big cities:
Huge parks and gardens with amazing landscaping that generate a sense of peace and tranquility. Almost every temple has a garden or a park adjacent to it that I found sometimes more appealing than the temple itself.
